


In a Cruel Dawn

by Weiila



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda (Video Game 1986), The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Comfort/Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-05-07 07:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19204333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weiila/pseuds/Weiila
Summary: A fallen Princess awakens in a strange new world and tries to find her place in it, but she's not the only fragment of the past that arrives to the new Hyrule. The peace is brittle, and the current Hero holds the key to the great evil's return.Multiverse alternative universe where the sleeping Princess of Link's Adventure is the Ocarina of Time Zelda. Combines a multitude of LoZ games AND bits of the cartoon and the old comics! I solemnly swear that there is not a single "excuuuse me, Princess", however.





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Do not worry about the timelines. This is a huge crossover - the timespace continuum has been shattered, so just enjoy the ride and references.

The world was a groggy mess. She blinked, eyes dry and hard to focus. The only thing she could see was a beautiful light, shining down on her in a blur. Drawing in air, she smelled dust and a sharp sting of sweat.

Disoriented… the smell was like an old, closed off room but then what was that light…?

 “Your Highness?”

It was an old woman’s voice, uncertain and reverent.

 “Princess?”

That was a young man, tired, relieved.

The three words dug into her mind like icy daggers, piercing the grogginess. Nobody should know that about her!

Startled, she pushed herself up. Fire raced down her arms and she fell backwards – but there was the sound of someone lunging forward, and damp, warm hands grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

Vision still refusing to focus, she stared up through a colored mist. Green, so beautifully green. He… it had to be…

Then she remembered his broken body beneath a huge, dark paw, and how she couldn’t tell her own scream from Navi’s.

Impossible.

 “Link?”

She meant to say it, but only a whispering croak left her dry throat.

 “Water, quick!” a young woman’s voice commanded.

There was the sound of running feet, a hollow splash of liquid poured into a cup or glass, and a reddish blur moved up beside the green one. A second later she felt a cool, rounded rim pressed against her lower lip. Water flowed into her mouth, sweet on her parched tongue. She nearly choked in her haste to swallow, her throat dry and unresponsive at first. It felt like the first mouthful took forever, but the next was much easier.

Life flooded back into her stiff limbs, and she could see again.

Kind blue eyes gazed down at her, set in a handsome face framed by unruly hair. A long, green cap just barely kept his fringe out of his eyes. He was dirty, and sweat glistened on his brow. Wherever he had been before this, he had rushed here with everything he had.

But it was all wrong.

It wasn’t Link. His clothes were similar, that was all. The eyes were not as blue, the nose and cheek bones different, and his hair was brown, not a sandy blond.

An imposter? But why? Panic struck and died in the same instant – it made no sense. Nothing made sense.

 “Where… what?” she croaked.

He who was not Link helped her sit up straighter, leaning against his arm. A movement beside him drew her gaze that way, and she saw an old woman wearing a red brown cloak standing there with a half-full glass of water in hand.

 “You are in Hyrule castle, Your Highness,” the old crone gently said, stroking a strand of long white hair away from her face.

Bewilderment bloomed to roaring confusion. Zelda shook her head, mind spinning. That was impossible. The castle had crumbled to ruin, she had fled, with… with…

_Fire screaming nonono not like this it wasn’t supposed to LAUGHTER OH GODDESSES NO PLEASE NO_

Nausea roiled in her stomach and she cast her gaze around, seeking something familiar to hold on to. But there was nothing – the room was foreign to her. Columns created a passageway from the door towards her current position, heavy red cloth draped between them. With a start she realized that she sat on a stone slab atop a set of marble stairs. Unease made her throat dry up, stirring a foggy memory. It looked too much like a temple, and a sacrificial altar.

But it was light, and there were only kind faces around her. Fighting the dizziness, she did a second take. That was when she noticed the woman by the foot of the stairs. She said nothing, only studied the scene above. She wore a simple crown atop her strawberry blonde hair, and her pale dress was emblazoned with the royal crest of Hyrule. Zelda’s heart lurched.

 “You must be so confused, Your Highness,” the old woman said.

Zelda could only nod, numb and mute.

 “Let us begin slowly,” the crone said. “Do you know who you are?”

 “I’m…”

She had to clear her throat. At least she knew one thing for certain, and she clung to it like a lifeline.

 “… I’m Princess Zelda.”

All of the three strangers visibly relaxed.

 “I am so glad. So glad…” The old woman’s voice cracked and she paused, wiping her eyes with her long sleeve. “How do you feel?”

Everything hurt. She tried to flex her fingers, her feet. Though rigid and hesitant, they obeyed. She could hear and feel every bone pop, trying to find its right place within her body as the muscles struggled to do what she wanted them to.

 “I feel… like I’ve slept for years.”

She shuddered, a memory fluttering again, just out of reach. She saw the others exchange glances, and premonition bubbled up like a sickening brew in her stomach.

 “I…” She had to stop to breathe and wet her lips. “I have… haven’t I?”

Silence. Finally, it was the old woman who spoke again, gently as if she feared Zelda would crumble to dust at the words.

 “Yes, Your Highness.”

 “How long?” She didn’t really want to know, but she had to.

 “About two hundred years.”

The room spun around, Zelda clutched the edge of the altar, digging the hard stone into her palms to steady herself. The young man silently squeezed her shoulder, so light that it was neigh impossible to notice.

 “Your Highness…” the old woman said.

 “A moment, please.” Zelda pinched her eyes shut and took in a few breaths.

When she looked up again her eyes automatically sought the man beside her. So achingly familiar and yet so painfully wrong.

He must have seen something in her eyes, because he pulled his hands away as if burned.

 “Ah, yes, I… uhm…” he mumbled. “Sorry.”

Shutting his mouth, he sunk down on one knee before her. There was a strange stiffness to it, like it didn’t feel natural for him to do such a thing. Then again, she had not seen anybody do so for her since she was a child, and barely even then as people had knelt to her father, not to her.

Those thoughts were weak and fluttering in her mind. Only one thing mattered, though she had to force it out of her mouth.

 “Who are you?” But she already knew.

He didn’t raise his bowed head.

 “My name is Link, Your Highness.”

She could only nod. A chill spread throughout her body, and she looked at the old woman in search of something to distract her.

 “Impa, Your Highness,” the crone said in a soft tone.

For a moment Zelda searched her features, a flare of mad hope sparking up – the coincidence must mean something. But of course it was impossible. There was nothing of her Impa in this woman’s face or movements.

With nothing left, Zelda turned her eyes down the stair, towards the young woman. In the gaze that met hers, she could see a reflection of her own tumultuous emotions.

She didn’t even need to ask.

 “I’m Queen Zelda. We have common ancestors.”

Zelda had to press both hands to her head, in a desperate attempt to stop everything from spinning. She had to look at anything else but those living reflections, and turned her face up in a wordless prayer for the nightmare to stop.

That was when she finally saw the three golden triangles hovering above her. Lazily spinning in the air, illuminating the entire room with a wondrous light.

The Triforce.

* * *

Afterwards, she could never quite remember those first few days. She vaguely recalled hazy hours all muddled up, strung together by Impa’s gentle voice urging her to eat or sleep. At some point early on she was presented with a room and new clothes as she only had her one dress – but she would not have made use of anything without the old woman’s guidance.

The very first thing she could recall clearly was a smell of wood, and the buzz of saws and the knock-knock-knock of hammers. She felt and heard it as Impa opened a door to a balcony and led her outside. The sunlight hit her face like a wave of warmth, tempered by the chill of the crisp morning air.

She heard birds singing, and saw delicate new leaves on the trees and bushes. Looking about, there seemed to be people everywhere in the courtyard beneath her, most of them dressed like workers and carrying carpenter tools, or transporting bricks, planks and other building materials in wagons and wheelbarrows.

 “There are many projects going on right now,” Impa said behind her. “With this peace we can rebuild not just the castle but the town as well.”

Zelda did not respond at first, only turned her head back and forth. Tried to make sense of the castle and the smaller buildings along the tall wall. Gazed beyond the fortification, saw rooftops and distant mountains covered with trees. When she looked north, she saw the landscape flatten out and pale. Could that possibly be a desert? Here?

There had never been a desert that close to Hyrule Castle. It couldn’t be Gerudo Valley, it was in the wrong direction and the landscape didn’t match.

And none of the mountains by the other horizon looked familiar either.

 “This is… it’s all— what… where…?”

She turned to Impa, desperate for an answer. The old woman’s ever kind smile had fallen, and she watched Zelda with such pity and concern that a cold hand gripped the lost Princess’ heart. Gently, Impa took her hand and brought her back inside, made her sit down on the first chair that could be found.

Then, Impa put her wrinkly hands on Zelda’s shoulders and looked her in the eye.

 “This is the new Hyrule,” Impa said, her voice low and soft. “The one you knew is gone.”

A buzz filled Zelda’s head and everything spun around. For a moment the room faded before her eyes and she thought she might faint. Then Impa’s arms closed around her, steadying her trembling form like an anchor. Struggling to breathe, Zelda clung to the old woman, heard her mumble soothingly but not able to understand a single word.

How long they remained like that, she did not know. But finally, slowly, her consciousness drifted back and she drew a shaky breath.

 “How?” she whispered.

 “Oh…”

Impa leaned back, stroking Zelda’s cheek like a mother might.

 “It was a sacrifice done to stop Ganon,” Impa said, so impossibly calm. “Although all surviving Zoras, Gorons, even the Sheika and Gerudo united with our people and the Great Sages against his forces, it was not enough. With all hope lost, the goddesses answered the people’s prayers and sank Hyrule into the ocean.”

She fell silent, and Zelda needed some time to process it. Or begin to try processing it. She was not sure a lifetime would be enough to take it in properly.

 “And then… this…” She made a vague motion at the room, indicating the world she had seen from the balcony.

 “New lands, settled by all the survivors,” Impa said. She straightened up as much as her back allowed her to, and pulled at Zelda’s hands to make her stand. “Come, let me show you a map.”

Zelda did not feel certain that she was ready for that, but the shock had sapped all strength left in her. She just followed along as Impa brought her to the castle library.

It was a large room, with comfortable chairs and several tables set about at tactical places. The windows reached all the way to the ceiling, their pointed tops made up of colored mosaics depicting the Triforce and Hyrule’s winged crest.

Packed book shelves lined every wall, except the one in the far back. There a grand tapestry hung, depicting a stylized map of a grand peninsula, split by rivers in the middle south. To the east of the mainland were three islands of vastly different sizes.

None of it looked the least bit familiar to Zelda, but she understood the implication immediately. Numbly, she let Impa lead her over to it.

 “Our ancestors made it here, with their other allies,” Impa said and pointed at the castle depicted in the middle of the northern part of the land, surrounded by grasslands.

Zelda ran her gaze over the map, mind still blank and unwilling to take it all in. It was a piece of artwork, beautifully woven and embroidered with fine details on the landscape and landmarks – and plenty of unpleasant beasts depicted here and there too, as if to act as a warning. She recognized moblins and hideous octorocs amongst the trees and mountains, and several others as well. Yet there were many monsters she did not quite know, and she wasn’t sure if that was because of the artist’s rendition or because this new world had held previously unknown horrors.

 “But Ganon did not disappear into the ocean,” Impa said, her voice taking on a dark tone that sounded alien from her lips. “He returned, and the war began anew, for generations. After the King—”

 “But the Hero?” Zelda interjected. “The Master Sword? The legends, the goddesses… they would send— when we needed…”

She faltered. Legends – fairytales, perhaps… she had seen the tragic end of that herself.

 “Ah, yes…” Impa sighed. “There have been one or two great warriors who helped drive Ganon back, and gave the people some respite. But the Triforce of Courage was lost all this time, and the Master Sword…” She shook her head. “We only think he has it; we don’t know for sure. Perhaps Link was the first true Hero, after all these years.”

 “He… mine…” Zelda closed her eyes. “He was named Link, too.”

 “Yes. A popular name.”

Out of all the unbelievable things Impa had just told her, that one had a particular strangeness to it – and it hurt that it seemed so impossible.

 “But he— we— he lost, and…”

She swallowed hard and motioned at the map.

 “Even so, he was the first one who stood against Ganon,” Impa said. “Not many could claim that feat.” She took Zelda’s hands and looked her in the eye, smiling warmly. “The tradition to name princesses ‘Zelda’ did not end, either. We remember those who gave their lives for others.”

It should have made Zelda feel better. She might have, if she had been of sound mind. But she was still reeling, and all she felt was a hot, burning lump in her throat. She could not understand that there could possibly be forgiveness.

However, Impa took her silence as speechless gratitude and turned back to the tapestry.

 “Some of the new settlements were named after the legendary Sages.” Impa touched the map and pointed where she could not reach. “Ruto, Saria, Nabooru, Rauru, Darunia.”

She gave a soft laugh.

 “And a long line of Impas stayed with the royal family, ever loyal.”

Zelda could not partake in the old lady’s gentle mirth when each name was a dagger in her heart. She brushed her fingertips over the town that was portrayed within touching distance, Saria, perched on either side of a river north of what looked like a dark mountain. The rocky area had a jagged design and stylized monsters were embroidered all over it, snakes crawling in and out of black spots that must depict cave openings.

 “Saria is the most fortified town in the land apart from the castle town,” Impa said. Zelda heard her as if through water. “It’s the outpost by Death Mountain, closest to Ganon’s lands.”

It seemed like a mockery to have a new Death Mountain, but even though Darunia was on the eastern island, perhaps the Gorons…?

Looking at the map, seeing clearly that the mountain was infested with monsters, Zelda did not dare to ask. She took in a deep breath to calm herself, searching for a different route of questions. They were countless, but she had to start somewhere. Beginning at the worst end, perhaps, would make the rest easier.

 “You… keep calling him Ganon,” she said. “But it was still Ganondorf? The Gerudo King?”

 “We don’t know that for certain,” Impa said. “A moment.”

She shuffled over to one of the bookshelves and ran her hand over the back of the tomes stored there. After a brief search she pulled one out and carried it to the nearest table.

 “We know your story, yes,” she said, the smile dropping from her face as she saw Zelda wince. “I’m sorry, dear girl.”

Zelda shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself as she silently walked closer. Not only was she lost in this era, but her failure was an inerasable part of Hyrule’s history now. Two hundred years of rising and falling war could be traced back to her time and here she was, a single living witness and key part to the start of all the pain.

She could not take in Impa’s reassurances that she wasn’t condemned by all. She herself could not forgive.

 “Nobody is to blame, except this monster,” Impa said in a firm voice as she flipped through the pages. She found what she sought and slapped her hand onto the book. “Look at this hideous thing!”

Her heart pounding, Zelda looked down.

The picture on the pale page was detailed, though not colored but only a pencil drawing. If it was completely realistic, or the artist’s rendition, she did not know – it seemed unlikely that many Hylians would survive a meeting and be able to draw it later. Seeing it, she understood why Impa could not be certain that the enemy she knew was the same that had stood victorious two centuries ago.

Just closing her eyes Zelda could see that demonic, boar-like giant, but the creature in the book looked like a degenerated copy of that. Swathed in fine armor and clothes, yes, but more pig than boar, and he wielded a viciously barbed trident, not a sword. Also, the trees sketched around him indicated that he must be much shorter than he had been… _that_ … time.

Still… the Triforce of Power shone on his hand, and his armor – though different – had a similar design.

 “I… don’t know,” Zelda mumbled, touching the page carefully. “He isn’t the same, but…”

Silence.

 “He is dead,” Impa said, drawing Zelda’s full attention.

A flash of bitter triumph sparked up in the lost Princess’ exhausted mind and she grasped Impa’s hands.

 “Tell me,” she said, with more life in her voice than ever since she awakened.

They sat down, and Impa told her the story of the Queen and the Hero. Of how the Queen – then still the Princess – had led her troops, but been captured during a desperate assault on Ganon’s stronghold. And how that Zelda, to save the Triforce of Wisdom from being stolen drew it out of herself and shattered it, sending the pieces in every direction to find hiding places. That had been an act of defiance rather than hope, as she could not send them very far.

But the little time she won turned out to be crucial, because then, finally, the Hero returned to Hyrule. Appearing as a mere young vagabond he cut and snuck his way past all obstacles to gather the Triforce back together and confront Ganon.

Zelda listened in silence. It was so familiar, all too familiar. But this tale ended differently, with the evil defeated and the kingdom saved.

 “That was about a year ago,” Impa said. Her smile remained, but it dipped and she gazed wistfully towards the windows. “The King was already sick… at least he got to see the Kingdom at peace before he passed.”

For a moment neither one of them said anything. There were still so many questions whirling in Zelda’s mind, but there was already so much – too much – to take in.

 “And then, one day,” Impa started again, “the Triforce symbol appeared on Link’s hand. That was when I was certain he was the one. So I showed him your resting place, and he set out to find the final part of the Triforce to awaken you.”

Zelda blinked, not sure she had heard that correctly.

 “It wasn’t in him?” she asked. “But the Queen, and Ganondo— Ganon had theirs, did they not?”

Seeing the Triforce as a physical thing was strange enough, but she had – somewhere deep down – simply assumed that they had used it to awaken her shortly after defeating Ganon. Then again, this was the first time she actually had a grasp of the time that had passed.

 “That was the case with Wisdom and Power, yes, but…” Impa shook her head. “We don’t know. The Triforce of Courage was held in a grand temple on the eastern island, filled with dark beings. Perhaps the Hero wasn’t sent to aid us for so long, simply because Courage could not reach a champion.”

Zelda nodded slowly. Certainly. Maybe. She did not know. She did not know anything anymore. Leaning her forehead in her palm, she tried to just stop thinking for a moment, give herself a breather.

There was a polite knock and they both looked up, seeing a servant by the door.

 “Lady Impa, the Gerudo delegation from Nabooru has arrived,” he said.

 “Ah, yes!”

The old woman got up and touched Zelda’s arm.

 “Would you forgive me for a little while, dear?” Impa asked.

An unexpected rush of relief washed over Zelda. Only in that moment did she realize how badly she craved to be alone and try to piece together the torn shreds of her mind.

 “Yes, I… I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling a little and hoping that it wasn’t too obvious that she appreciated being left behind.

Nodding cheerfully, obviously not picking up on any of Zelda’s chaotic emotions, Impa hurried off together with the servant.

Left to her own devices in the library, Zelda sat down for a moment, staring at the air. She stood up again just as quickly, moved over to the window. Stared outside for a few seconds without seeing, stepped away and over to the woven map on the wall. Attention wandering, she soon turned away from that as well.

Her eyes unfocused, trying to gather her thoughts, trying to recall.

She walked in circles, retracing her steps. Trying to figure out where everything fell apart.

The memories were blurred, as if her entire life had been a dream. Even the terror and pain of the final battle – her final days – slipped around inside her mind like wisps of smoke. It gave some dull comfort, to have even that horror seem like a distant nightmare.

And yet it was all wrong, and not even the relief of trauma being smothered by time could make it right.

Link and Ganondorf were _there_ and the fire stretched across _there_ …

Around and around.

She was here, when she should have been dead hundreds of years ago. Like all of the others. It shouldn’t have been like this.

They should have won.

She stood _there_ … could barely see past the flames, just a few glimpses of green. Ganondorf’s monstrous form moving back and forth, roar making her entire body rattle, so hard to stand…

It shouldn’t have been like this.

Around and around.

It shouldn’t have been like this, so where exactly did everything go wrong?

Where had they failed?

She closed her eyes, and in her memory she saw a giant, dark paw swing, heard a cry of pain and shock, saw a silvery flash of metal. The Master Sword flew through the air over the wall of flames. Link was trapped there, with Ganondorf towering over him and the holy blade out of reach.

She rushed forwards, had to reach it, had to get it back to him— the flames rose up, heat burned her face, skirt catching fire and she recoiled— she recoiled—

The shadow of the paw fell, and the ground trembled with Ganondorf’s victorious roar.

Zelda clutched her stomach, nausea making her dizzy.

Yes.

That was where she failed.

That was why they had lost.

She staggered over to the window, leaned heavily against the wall.

Why was she here? Why had she been spared?

Struggled to think back. The last thing… the very last thing was Ganondorf, no longer that monster, but smirking, and she was in chains and— and— he raised his hand, darkness flared and… nothing.

It made no sense. In all this madness, this entire new existence where she had no place, no reason, where the world has been forced into rebirth… all that was chaos, but her life was a mystery. Why had he not killed her?

Did it matter?

How long she stood there, pressing a hand over her eyes, she did not know.

When she eventually straightened up and turned away from the window, she gave a start – realizing she was not alone. A young woman – her age – wearing a finely embroidered dress and a tiara, both of them emblazoned with Hyrule’s crest, stood by the door.

Zelda struggled to think of something – anything – to say. What should a relic of the past say to the present?

She had not seen the Queen at all ever since she first woke up. The only one she had spoken to this whole time, really, had been Impa. Back then, she had been in a daze and never gotten close enough to the Queen to have a proper look at her.

They were about the same height and muscle – yes, she too had fought – but the Queen’s hair had a darker, strawberry blonde hue. Her most prominent feature, however, was the scar on her face. Two uneven lines traced down the Queen’s left jaw, just barely grazing the base of her ear. It stood in stark contrast to the rest of her appearance.

The wound that left that mark must have been horribly painful.

Zelda did not mean to fixate on it, but it certainly did not help her veering mind figure out something to say – she certainly could not bring that up.

But the Queen could.

 “Shall we compare scars?” she asked, with a wry but friendly smile.


	2. The Queen

The Queen’s chambers were well furnished, as suited a lady of her status. But there were also many things that did not befit a noblewoman. A suit of armor – a combination of leather and chainmail – hung on a scaffold along with a helmet, both the pieces bearing the familiar Hyrule crest, just like the dress and jewelry the Queen wore now. It lacked any other outstanding features, though, obviously made to let her go to war without standing out and making herself an easy target. A sheathed sword and bow with a quiver hung on the wall beside the armor.

Also hanging on the wall were two maps, one woven and resembling the one in the library – only showing a bigger part of the world. The other one, set up within touching distance, was drawn on a huge piece of paper and only depicted Hyrule. Dozens of differently colored tacks were stuck in it, most prominently a cluster of red ones in the area below Death Mountain. Either the Queen could not be bothered to take down her battle planning even this long after the peace, or there was still trouble afoot that Impa had not yet told Zelda about. She did not ask or linger on the maps – there had been quite enough of that for the time being.

The Queen led her over to a pair of armchairs near one of the windows. A small table was set there, with two beautiful tea cups on saucers and a matching teapot, as well as two plates of sandwiches and cookies. Zelda had no appetite, but tea was an appealing idea.

It took her a moment to realize that the Queen had prepared for this and then apparently gone to search for her herself. Such a strange thing for a royal to do.

The two of them sat down and to her surprise, the Queen took the tea pot and filled the cups, offering one. Though the easy manners astonished her, Zelda took it without a comment.

 “Let’s just use this as an icebreaker,” the Queen said as she leaned back, giving a slanted smile as she motioned at the prominent scar on her face.

Zelda understood that she was invited with open arms to ask, but it still seemed a bit too forwards to her.

“It… must have hurt,” she said, diplomatically.

The Queen nodded.

 “When I was captured, Ganon lifted me up like this…” The Queen raised her fist up just above her head. “… and demanded to know where I had hidden the Triforce of Wisdom. So I spat in his face.” A scoff escaped her and she traced the jagged lines down the side of her face with her thumb. “He should have seen that coming.”

For a second Zelda was stunned mute, just staring at the Queen – sitting tall in an embroidered silk dress, hair swept up in a graceful, braided curl upon which her crown rested, and a gold necklace around her neck. But the fine cloth and jewelry did little to hide the scars, not only the one on her face but also the multitude slashed into her wiry arms. Zelda noticed those only now, when she was not so focused on the Queen’s face.

 “You’re incredibly brave,” Zelda finally said. It sounded too tame in her ears, as if such meager words could possibly capture the awe she felt for the woman before her.

 “Thank you, but that was stupid.” The Queen laughed, though. “The ringing in my ear afterwards was the worst part. It made it hard to focus.”

 “Didn’t it go away?”

 “No…” The Queen smiled at her teacup, brushing her hand over her elegantly pointed ear. “Link managed to heal it.”

Zelda said nothing. Though she wanted to ask, she could not intrude when Queen’s was so absorbed in a precious memory. In a brief moment, though, the other woman blinked and shook herself out of it.

 “Sorry,” she said and nodded to Zelda. “Your turn. You disguised yourself, didn’t you?”

That took Zelda off guard for a brief moment, until she remembered that Impa had mentioned that her story was known. As somebody who had spent most of her life in hiding, that was an unpleasant thought. Still, there was no threat in the way the Queen watched her, and her admiration for the other woman’s bravery soothed the unease.

 “Yes,” Zelda said, “as a Sheikah, a man.”

 “May I see that?”

Though she had half expected it, Zelda found that she was not quite prepared for the frankness. But the Queen leaned forward in her chair with honest curiosity in her eyes, and it would be rude – and improper – to refuse.

 “Let me try,” Zelda said.

She set the cup aside and pressed her palms together, focusing her will like she had been taught so many years ago. She could feel the magic moving within her like a warm shiver, but sluggishly as if it were waking up or had no strength left. Whether it was because of the long time that had passed, or something else, she did not know. She hoped it was the former.

She had only cast the spell a handful of times in her life, since Sheik had been her hiding place. Still she wanted to recall it being easier.

Her focus shattered and she had to try again, and again – but on the third attempt she felt the shiver grow and spread throughout her. It rose up in a glow spreading from her chest across her body, to the top of her head down to her toes. As the magic moved, it changed what it needed to along the way to complete the disguise. The dress melted away into the dusty, familiar garb of a Sheikah warrior, complete with the turban gathering up and hiding her long hair.

It felt like a second skin, one she was more familiar with than her true appearance.

 “Amazing!” The Queen put her cup on the table, looking Zelda up and down. “I’d never know it was you.”

 “Ah… thank you,” Zelda said, rather uncertain how to react to that.

 “Your Impa trained you, no?” the Queen said.

 “Yes…” It took a moment for Zelda to catch the implication. “Did yours train you?”

The Queen chuckled.

 “She wasn’t always old, you know,” she said. “But she was in her prime when she fought alongside my grandmother. She did try to teach me lock picking though, but I never had the patience for it.” She scoffed. “I regretted that in Ganon’s dungeon.”

Zelda thought about the kind old woman and tried to imagine her more like the Impa she had known. It was quite difficult. As the Queen spoke of lock picking, however, Zelda nodded and reached into one of her satchels to draw out one of the hook picks she had used for that skill.

 “I was supposed to avoid fighting if I could,” she said. “I’m better at sneaking and breaking in, and I have smoke bombs if I needed to escape.”

 “We would make a dangerous team, you and I,” the Queen said, smiling. “I would like to see you show off some of that. Can you teach me how to make smoke bombs later?”

It was an absurd question coming from a Queen, but Zelda had by now gotten the picture well enough that she was not surprised this time.

 “If you wish,” she said, and could not help but smile back. She never entertained the thought of showing off any of her weapons, but the Queen did not let her get away with that.

It was so strange.

Impa had drenched her in an icy cold torrent of revelations, but the pain in Zelda’s heart slowly eased as she and the Queen continued to speak of their memories, sharing the marks on their bodies and in their minds. In essence it was the same thing as Impa’s appalling truths, yet… the Queen did something with it all.

_A lynel got lucky, almost took my arm off._

_Caught sneaking around Gerudo fortress, they did not like that…_

_River Zora, nasty things… thank Hylia for their ocean cousins…_

_Kakariko village, the phantom shadow beast…_

Yes, she… they had been working towards something. There was a reason for all the pain. Even though Zelda knew that her final agony did not have purpose, sharing her experiences with the Queen and taking in the other woman’s in turn was like a soothing balm.

At the end of it, when they had run out of scars to share, they both leaned back in silence.

Zelda focused briefly, and the magic enveloped her once again – washing away Sheik, returning the lost Princess. She did not really want to, but Sheik had no reason to be there either, and it seemed more natural to pick up her tea cup as herself.

Neither one spoke for a little while.

Finally, though, Zelda remembered something she had wanted to ask about and straightened up.

 “The Triforce… where is it now?” she wondered.

 “Up there.” The Queen pointed out the window, and Zelda leaned forward to look.

A tower rose up above the rest of the castle rooftops, windows set at even distances near the top. It looked large enough to fit a couple of rooms at least.

 “That’s Link’s room,” the Queen said. “We furnished a chamber beside it for the Triforce. There can’t be any safer place in the land, don’t you agree?”

Zelda nodded, absently. Then she sat back in her chair, looking at the Queen.

 “Do you feel strange without it?” she wondered.

 “Do you?” the Queen asked. She took Zelda’s hand and brushed her thumb over the area where the golden symbol had once shone.

For a moment Zelda was too stunned by the sudden touch to respond. The Queen’s fingers looked delicate, but the fingertips had callouses from all the weapons she had held. With every bit of self-control she could muster Zelda pulled herself together before the Queen glanced up, avoiding an awkward situation.

 “I… I can’t remember,” Zelda said. “All my memories are so dulled, I can’t really…” She paused and shook her head. “Maybe I felt like something carried me through back then.”

She fell silent and sighed.

 “Or maybe that was just because everything I knew fell apart and I had to be strong.”

 “Maybe,” the Queen agreed.

 “What about you?” Zelda wondered.

The Queen let go of her, leaving a shadow of warmth behind. Instead, she stroke the back of her own hand.

 “The spell that I used to pull the Triforce out of myself and shatter it…” she said, “I didn’t intend to use it on myself. It was for Ganon. But he resisted it.”

She clenched her jaw and picked her tea cup back up. Staring into the cooling liquid, she frowned at the painful memory.

 “We risked everything to get me close enough to cast it, and it failed.”

Though her memories were hazy, Zelda’s heart ached with how well she understood the pain in the other woman’s eyes. Eternity could not erase that choking grip of despair when all hope crashed down – and by the feet of the very same demon.

 “So the survivors and I fled, and they bought me a little time to cast the spell again. It drained all the strength I had left and I was easy prey.” The Queen shuddered. “I… always fought before that, but then I was… nothing.”

Her voice, always so confident and clear before, faded into a papery whisper.

It was unbearable.

 “But you still spat in his face,” Zelda said.

She felt like a mountain lifted from her shoulders when those words melted away the darkness from the Queen’s face and she smiled again.

 “Right,” the Queen said, chuckling. “Maybe Wisdom would have stopped me.”

 “Would it have been able to?” Zelda asked.

It jumped out of her before she could consider whether or not it was proper to say such a thing – the Queen had gotten her into a strange mood. And the other woman laughed out loud.

 “I doubt it!” the Queen said, all the gloom from a moment earlier gone as she cocked her neck defiantly at an imaginary enemy.

Zelda smiled too, until an evil little voice piped up in the back of her head.

_This one would have gotten to the Master Sword in time._

She looked at the Queen, and knew that nothing short of Ganon himself blocking her way would have stopped _her_. Everything could have been different if it had been somebody with her strength there instead.

No.

Taking in a deep breath, Zelda sternly told herself that regret would change nothing. The past was done.

But it still hurt.

She desperately sought a distraction to save her.

 “And now the Triforce is restored, and Ganon is gone,” she said. The words were comforting in themselves, strange as they were to her ears. “What now?”

The Queen sobered and thought for a moment.

 “I know how to lead an army,” she finally said, touching the scar on her face. “Peace is… strange.”

She looked out the window, at the blue sky. A few birds fluttered past, the beating of their wings loud over the distant sound of hammers.

 “I knew peace only in the beginning,” Zelda said, staring down into her cup. “I wish I… I could have done better, for everyone… for you, too.”

She took a sip, just to help getting the burning lump out of her throat. It felt difficult to breathe.

 “You can help us now,” the Queen said. When Zelda looked up, she smiled and added, “You can certainly help me.”

 “I don’t know with what.” Despite saying so, Zelda put the tea cup aside and straightened her back, watching the Queen intently. Her despair had already dulled for the moment, and the suggestion of a purpose, some reason for still being alive, lit a tiny spark of hope.

“Like I said, I know military and battle,” the Queen said. “I don’t know how to act around foreign dignitaries apart from telling them to stop sniffing at our borders. I don’t know how to be a diplomatic, or polite leader.” She emptied her cup and set it on the table. “There wasn’t really any time for that, and it’s been that way for several generations.”

Zelda had not expected that.

Still, that was a whole other kind of battlefield and one that could be highly treacherous, she knew as much full well.

 “I was just a child but my Impa…” Zelda paused for a moment, holding back a wince. It still hurt to say that. “She… we hoped there would be peace someday, and I would need to know proper manners. She taught me some of that, too, while we were hiding. But mostly how to be a Sheikah.”

“I’m certain that will help a lot,” the Queen said. Her smile had grown warmer, watching some life return to Zelda’s eyes.

 “Perhaps but… it must be very old-fashioned by now.”

 “Traditional,” the Queen cheerfully corrected.

It took Zelda off guard, and before she knew it she was smiling. The Queen returned it, refilling their cups.

 “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Zelda took the offered saucer. They both knew that she didn’t mean for the drink.

But the Queen’s brow creased at the title.

 “I don’t want any formality with you,” she said.

The bluntness took Zelda by surprise, but only briefly. The way the Queen spoke and her easy manners had already begun to paint a very different picture of the Hyrule royalty. These were different times, and a different ruler. Different manners, that had never been carefully drilled for fine dinners and strict, unforgiving etiquette.

Unless the rest of the world had changed just as radically, the Queen was right in requesting help.

 “As you wish,” Zelda said.

Nodding, the Queen raised her cup from its saucer and held it out. It took a second for Zelda to catch on, but then she did the same and the porcelain touched with a crisp tinkle.

The brief hesitation before the toast did not pass the Queen by. The corner of her lips drew up in a slanted smile.

 “You might even have to teach me proper table manners, as you see,” she said.

 “Oh no, I didn’t—”

 “You don’t need to make excuses for me.”

The Queen chuckled, but there was a hard undertone.

 “It’s best that you’re honest, so that I don’t make a fool of myself when the suitors start knocking on the door.”

It was such a turn of the subject that Zelda blinked, mute. In a moment she caught herself, seeing the flash of stoic resignation on the Queen’s face.

 “Have you gotten hints already?” Zelda asked.

 “Hints and honesty both,” the Queen said. “Even while father was alive. But we were at war and none of them were prepared to offer an army as dowry and lead it themselves at my side. They just wanted a promise for the day we had peace, or to take me away from here. I couldn’t guarantee any land, not with the way things were, but it was good enough to some and getting a bit of magic in the royal bloodline would be…”

She paused and looked at the map on the wall, this one showing a larger area of the world than the one in the library. Only Hyrule was drawn in with any detail, however. The neighboring countries – across the oceans to the north and southeast, and beyond the mountains to the west and southwest – all had their territories painted in different, flat colors.

 “I’ve been thinking that I had better start considering some of them, now that the war actually is finally over. We could do with a strong alliance.”

Her lack of enthusiasm was painful.

Up until that moment, the Queen had been the complete opposite of any dignitary that Zelda had ever met… the opposite of herself.

They might share bravery, but the Queen took it with her from the battlefield as she wielded it as frank honesty in every way she spoke and acted. In that instant, when Zelda saw the other woman sink back in thought, mentally preparing herself to face the oldest chains of young nobility, she realized how beautiful the Queen had been in her self-confidence.

Up until that moment.

The resignation ripped all the strength right out of the Queen, and the slump of her form made a chilling promise of what the ancient demands would do to her.

Zelda put her cup down.

 “What about Link?” she said.

Tea splashed onto the floor as the Queen nearly dropped her cup and saucer. She just barely managed to keep her grip. Blinking like she had just woken up, she stared at Zelda.

 “Didn’t expect that,” she said after a moment.

To herself, Zelda could admit that neither had she. Never in her life had she ever spoken so bluntly.

It felt incredibly refreshing. Emboldened, she continued in a way that she would not have even considered in her past.

 “Do you like him?”

 “Yes.” The Queen didn’t even hesitate. “More than any ponce that would prance up on a white horse and faint at the sight of this.” She motioned at her scars. “And it’s not just because he turned Ganon into barbecue ribs.”

It was so disrespectful that Zelda’s line of thought completely crashed and she forgot what they had been talking about.

 “What?” was all she could manage.

 “Maybe spit roast sounds better?” The Queen grinned wide. “Although to be fair, he was a pile of ash last I saw him, so it was more like seasoning.”

For a moment Zelda was speechless. Then she felt her own mouth stretch in a smile. Unbelievably disrespectful… and delightfully so.

“I can’t believe you,” she said, barely able to keep from laughing.  

 “I have always been like this,” the Queen said. She gave a slanted smile. “It helps take the edge off things.”

Her smile turned warmer.

 “But nobody else can make me laugh like Link can,” she added.

 “Really? He seemed very formal to me,” Zelda said, eyebrows high. Though to be fair, they had barely spoken.

 “It was like that with me too, when we first met,” the Queen said. “It went away once he got to know me a little.” She chuckled. “It only took a night in the forest.”

Zelda choked on her tea.

 “I didn’t mean it like that! Not like that!” the Queen yelled, rushing up to knock on Zelda’s back as she coughed.

 “Beg— your— pardon?”

 “Din, I meant, I meant—”

The Queen fell back into her chair, breaking down into chortles. She tried to contain her laughter, pressing both hands to her mouth but to no avail. It was contagious, and though her throat burned, this time it could not be helped – Zelda had to laugh at the sheer absurdity.

She gripped the folds of her dress, digging her nails through it into her thighs. A wave of dizziness swept over her, but instead of being nauseating it felt like a refreshing wave. She could not remember when she had last laughed.

 “No, no, no…” The Queen paused and took in a deep breath to collect herself. “What I meant was, he got me out of the dungeons, and then we still had to make it back to safety. It took a few days, that’s all. Nothing _untoward_ happened.”

 “But you had time to get to know each other,” Zelda said, still unable to stop smiling.

 “Yes.” The Queen chuckled. “I heard the monsters talk about him, when I was captured. I didn’t know it was him, of course… but they were saying things like fighting him made them wish for death because then at least they would not have to listen to him.”

 “Really? Why?”

A laugh escaped the Queen and she tapped her cheek with a fingertip.

 “He can tease anybody to a blind rage when he wants to,” she said, grinning. “Ganon was so angry halfway through their fight that he could barely aim. That counts as a tactic, doesn’t it?”

Zelda caught herself leaning forwards in her seat, absolutely intrigued. Most of her life had been spent fearing and hating Ganon— Ganondorf. In that moment she so wanted to believe they were truly the same. She had never known how amazing it could be to hear him being so disrespected and made fun of. It was bizarre, and unbelievably liberating.

 “What did he say to him?” she asked.

The Queen raised her hand and counted on her fingers.

 “He told me he asked Ganon if his spear was his personal skewer, called him a warthog, butcher’s dream, holiday dinner, walking sausage workshop, and ah yes, spit-roast. And by then Ganon was roaring so loud I could hear it from the dungeons. Link said it was pointless to talk at that point because he couldn’t even hear himself.”

She sighed and leaned her cheek in her palm, smile falling.

 “He’s amazing,” she said. “And now he barely speaks to me.”

It came out of nowhere, so sudden that Zelda could not keep a confused noise from escaping her. Mute, she stared at the Queen, silently imploring her to go on. Catching her look, the Queen shook her head.

 “I’m sorry,” the Queen said. “We had a huge fight, before he left to find the Triforce of Courage. I didn’t want him to put himself in danger.”

 “You were worried, of course?” Zelda said.

 “Yes, but…”

The Queen hesitated. She glanced out the window, towards Link’s room in the tower.

Finally she shook her head.

 “I need… to tell you something about Link,” the Queen said. She took in a deep breath and held Zelda’s gaze. “He might be the key for Ganon’s return.”

As Zelda stared at her, the Queen continued in a brisk, steady voice:

 “Rumor has it that Ganon can be revived, if the heart blood of the hero who slayed him is spilt over his remains.”

For a moment Zelda saw only fire, a huge shadow, and a broken body, merciless crimson seeping into green cloth.

The Queen continued to speak.

 “Nobody knows where the rumor started, but people believe it. There was a mass panic when he snuck off to search for the Triforce of Courage. Only Impa knows I allowed it. Well, and you.”

Zelda glanced out at the peaceful blue sky, struggling to gather her thoughts.

 “Do you believe it?” she finally managed to ask, her voice hoarser than she would have wanted.

 “I don’t know,” the Queen said and shook her head. “We don’t know enough about black magic to tell for sure.” A hard, smug look flashed in her eye. “But I do know that whether or not it’s true, the monsters would also need a fine brush, because I kicked and stomped his ashes across the floor.”

 “You…”

Despite all the audacity she had seen from this woman already, again Zelda found herself taken off guard.

 “… you walked out of there with his remains on your shoes.”

 “My bare feet, actually,” the Queen said. “I wasn’t allowed to wear boots when I was taken prisoner, because it hurt too bad when I kicked at the poor guards’ shins.”

The past Impa would have adopted her on the spot.

Still…

 “I’m grateful but…” Zelda looked away, trying to find the right words. It was impossible to be anything but blunt, however. “I don’t know if you should have taken that risk.”

 “We don’t know if it’s true,” the Queen said.

 “But what if it is? And if Link died, and Ganondorf— Ganon…”

Zelda shook her head.

 “I lost, and you won, you… you finally won.” Her throat burned and she swallowed hard. “And then you risked losing it all again.”

She heard the Queen set the tea cup down and braced herself, expecting a sharp comment that she was churlish. Yet it was the truth.

 “You know…” the Queen said, “I didn’t like it either. But after Impa took Link to the catacombs, and he saw you sleeping there, he wasn’t himself.”

Mutely, Zelda looked at the Queen. Every muscle in her body froze, fearful of what would come next, yet hypnotized by whatever unknown fact was about to reveal itself.

 “He was all but climbing the walls with his bare hands,” the Queen said, watching her steadily. “He had to go, I had to let him.”

The world faded away before Zelda’s eyes. In that moment, nothing existed except for the soft, gentle words leaving the Queen’s lips.

“Link _needed_ to see you alive and well.”

He did.

Of course he did.

Somehow, Zelda had a shred of sense left to make her put the saucer on the table before she threw her hands against her face and wept. Wept like she hadn’t done since her entire world fell apart.

The Queen’s arms were around her then, cradling her, letting her cry without shame for everything she had lost, for all the dead friends and their hope that had been destroyed so, so long ago that it didn’t matter to anybody but her — and yet, there it was, an echo, a living memory, in somebody else…

She wanted to believe that.

Zelda wasn’t sure how long the sobs wracked her body, but when she finally could wipe her eyes and groggily blink at the Queen, the other woman gently smiled.

 “I think,” the Queen said, “that the best revenge you can have against Ganon is to live.”


	3. The Hero

The sinking sun painted a glorious tapestry of yellow and purple, filling the west sky with warm colors. Such was the heavens. Down on the ground the evening chill had not yet settled in, but there was a little bite in the wind.

Zelda left the castle by a small door to the south while wrapping her cloak tighter around her shoulders and looked around. The door led to the castle gardens, and they were an utter mess.

Or a work in progress, if one felt generous.

Fields had been dug up and thin walkways were in the process of being broadened. The many fruit trees and berry bushes were untouched, along with some fields around them. All of those grew along the walkways and the walls, strictly cut and bound up on trellises. It was not made for beauty but efficiency, to keep the harvest easy and steady. Bees flitted about the myriad of flowers, bringing nectar back to the row of beehives in one corner of the wall.

The remaining vegetable fields were a stark contrast to the rest of the messy ground. There, fresh green stalks rose up from the dark, neatly kept earth.

It had been a source of food for the castle and the town, but with the peace at least half of it would be converted for beauty rather than survival. The contrast between the remaining and the wrecked fields made the latter look even worse, but it also held a promise of what would come. Zelda noted, first with surprise and then with delight, that the iron gates barring entry to the area had been removed. Of course the Queen would not lock anybody out, not when she didn’t have to defend the place anymore. Next year this would be a lovely park full of edibles and flowers, open for everyone to enjoy.

Any future little Hero intending to speak with a future little Princess would not have to sneak his way in.

Zelda pursed her mouth as that line of thought ran through her head, unbidden and unwelcome.

It was almost two days since she had her long talk with the Queen, and she could still feel the remnants of the headache that she had woken up with. It had been a mad ride of emotions and revelations, and as good as it had felt, it left her drained.

But she felt better than she had ever since she was awakened. Still her mind swirled backwards to the past whenever she let her guard down, continuing to haunt her. A lifetime might, maybe, be enough to heal the wounds. For now she had to settle with keeping her thoughts in check as best she could, and appreciate that it did not feel so nauseatingly overwhelming anymore. For the moment, at least.

 “My Lady?”

Ripped out of her thoughts by the sudden voice she spun around.

_How did you not hear— him…_

The reprimand in her head – sounding much like her Impa – trailed off as she saw who it was.

A vine climbing over the archway of the garden entrance had come loose, swaying lazily in the wind. The leaves growing on it nearly touched the young man’s hat, their colors matching. He absently ducked under the bough as he stepped forwards. The sinking sun cast his shadow across the fields, sending it up alongside Zelda’s and causing their silhouettes to stand face to face against the castle wall even when the two of them were much further apart.

She vaguely recalled Impa at some point – through all the information the old woman had heaped on her – mentioning that Link had been knighted and fitted with a garb more suitable for a legendary Hero… but that he felt uncomfortable in it, and could be quite loud about the matter.

He did not look like a champion from a heroic epic, but to her, nothing could make him look more like the Hero than what he currently wore – the same outfit she had first seen him in. Now it was cleaned, and repaired, or replaced. She had to wonder at how he could dress so alike a Kokiri, when he must have only heard about them in fairy tales. Did he even know?

A familiar-looking pommel was visible over his right shoulder, the sword held in a scabbard against his back. Zelda felt a pang of unease at seeing the Master Sword out in the open – the evil was banished, the sword ought to rest—

She shook it off, reminding herself that this was a very different era, and a different place. The Temple of Time was gone, and with it the resting place of the Master Sword. If the Triforce could be out in the open, then why not the blade that should protect it?

Link bowed when their eyes met. Not nearly as graceful as some well-drilled noble, just a stiff, simple bow that he probably had been taught off-handed to use should he ever need to address a village priest or mayor. Not anybody more important than that, as he had not been expected to meet anyone of a higher status.

Zelda reflected on that the Queen did not care for any fine etiquette.

The silence stretched, even as he straightened.

 “At ease,” Zelda said at length. It wasn’t the right thing to say, but she didn’t know what else. It did help, though, as Link’s shoulders fell and he smiled a little.

 “I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said. Then he chuckled. “That was stupid of me, I’ve heard what Sheikah can do.”

 “You’re lucky I’m rusty,” Zelda said. It was only half in jest, but he did not know that.

He grinned, and it made him look even more different from the Link she remembered. _He_ had almost never smiled, always carrying the sorrow of a child brutally ripped from everything he had known. _His_ pain reflected in her and _they had fought their entire lives and for NOTHING—_

She drew in a deep breath and forced her mind back to the present.

 “Did you… can I help you?” she asked, voice lower than she had intended.

Link gave her an odd look, catching on to something being off, but he was tactful enough to leave it. Instead, he reached over his shoulder.

 “Yes, there’s something that I… actually, a lot of people have been wondering about,” he said.

Metal rasped against metal as he drew the sword from its scabbard, in a slow, fluid movement. Gently, he held the handle sideways, resting the blade in his other hand as he held it up to her.

 “Is this the Master Sword?” he wondered.

Impa had mentioned that too, that they didn’t know for certain. Zelda did, however.

She nodded, silently running her gaze along the blade, to the part near the hilt where it widened, emblazoned with the Triforce symbol. All of it familiar, from the tip to the guard made of that strange, blue metal in the shape of stylized wings, adorned with a golden diamond.

 “It’s really it?” Link pressed.

 “Yes.”

She reached out without thinking, stopped and hesitated. But Link made a slight forwards motion, and the wordless invitation made Zelda dare to brush her fingertips over the smooth metal of the blade. A warm hum reverberated through her fingers and whirl of blue sparks fluttered up. She drew back, but slowly. It had not hurt.

Part of her had expected it to lash out at her in rage, like the legends said it would against anyone unworthy touching it. She realized that only when there was no judgement, and she found that it surprised her.

Link spoke, but it took a moment for her to catch on to what he was talking about.

 “They always knew it was magic, just not if it was the Master Sword.” He seemed relieved. Letting out a soft sigh, he lifted the sword over his head and slipped it back into its sheath. “Not just anybody could draw it without burns.”

 “How did you come across it?” Zelda wondered.

 “Zel— the Queen could wield it sometimes, just for a short while and only when she really needed it.” His brow furrowed as he went on. “She brought it along when she assaulted Ganon’s stronghold, but things didn’t work out. I’m sure you’ve heard.”

He waited for her to acknowledge that before he continued.

 “One of her soldiers fled with the sword and hid… I found him while I was searching for the Triforce pieces.”

The cloud passed from his face and he chuckled.

 “If the spell had worked on Ganon, she would have finished the job without me.”

Zelda smiled too, nodding agreement to the admiration in his voice. She could see, though, a much warmer feeling in his eyes as he looked up towards the castle walls. Warmth – but his smile suddenly faltered and he turned away from the castle, away from the probable direction of the Queen’s room.

The shift took Zelda off guard, but in an instant she understood it. The wistful look in his eyes reminded her of how the Queen had looked when speaking of him.

However, her tactical side surged, warning her to not admit how much information she had. She did not like the way he turned from the castle and even took a couple of steps away. A stitch of panic flared up, his thoughts were obvious – he wanted to leave, not just the garden but entirely, and if there was even the slightest chance that his death might bring Ganon back then she could in no way stand by. She could not allow Link to go anywhere unsafe.

The Queen had her own ideas about why there was suddenly rift between her and her Hero – here was a chance to have his viewpoint.

 “Is something wrong?” Zelda asked.

He shook his head, but it did not look earnest. Rubbing the back of his hand, he paced back and forth.

 “I just…” He paused, hesitated and looked away for a moment. Then, he suddenly shook his head and faced her again. “I just feel walled in.”

 “Walled in?” Zelda echoed, playing dumb.

 “Yes, because nobody trusts me to go outside anymore.” He smiled, without any mirth. “Can you believe that? Suddenly everyone seems to think I’ll break my neck from stumbling on a pebble.”

 “Certainly not, after all you’ve done?” But in truth she could share in that paranoia, perfectly well.

He did not respond, just shook his head with a distant look at the sky.

 “If you feel disrespected, I’m sure the Queen would take issue with that,” Zelda said. “You should talk to her.”

He went right in the trap.

 “I don’t know how to talk to her anymore,” Link said. He paced as he spoke, kicked at a small stone. It skipped off along the road. “I thought I did, for a while, but then she had to become a Queen.”

 “When could you talk with her?” Zelda asked.

A small voice in the back of her head insisted that she had no clue what she was doing and should let it be. But it was all so _wrong_. She could not bear to watch him and the Queen do this stupid, painful dance.

 “When we—”

He paused and glanced at her, tried to find the words that would make it less inappropriate. Unaware that she already knew.

 “When we made our way to safety.” His pacing slowed as he stared at the sky. “She wasn’t a Queen then. She wasn’t even a Princess. I… she wasn’t anything like I thought.”

His small smile revealed that he had enjoyed being proven wrong.

 “The first night we made camp she took my bow and came back with a sand fowl she’d shot out of the sky. She would have plucked and cooked it too but—” The memory widened his smile. “But it seemed more gentlemanly I do that since she brought it home.”

Zelda just listened to him ramble, her heart aching as she saw the echo of the Queen’s expression on the Hero’s features as he mused over the dear memory.

An owl cried out in the distance, and the invasive noise shattered the spell. The dreamy look fell from Link’s face as he shook himself out of his thoughts.

 “We could talk then. And still, for a bit, when we found her people… even when she took charge.” He started pacing again. “But then it started to fade. She had to be a leader, and I… I’m not. My family serves at a workshop, they don’t even own it.”

His smile was sardonic, and resigned.

 “What does that matter?” Zelda asked, hotter than she intended. “You saved the kingdom… the world! You saved—”

She paused, didn’t want to say it.

 “Saved you, my Lady?” he said, softly. He held her gaze, with an unreadable look.

The wind whispered in the trees, and the owl cried into the dusk again.

 “Yes,” Zelda said at length.

 “But you don’t know what to do with yourself now, do you?”

She stared at him, struck mute. He gazed back evenly, with a flash of sadness and understanding in his eyes.

 “Neither do I,” he added, when she did not respond.

For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Finally, Zelda closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Steady. Steady.

 “I’m… lost, yes. But I will find myself again, I’m certain. And I’m grateful… I never told you that, and I apologize.”

If he sensed that she wasn’t entirely truthful about being certain and grateful, he was tactful enough to not say anything. She would later come to know that such discretion was something he reserved for only a rare few people.

 “Regardless,” she continued, a little too quick, “I might be alone here, but you don’t have to be. Don’t you understand how grateful the Queen is for what you’ve done?”

Link gave a dark chuckle.

 “I wasn’t questing for the key to her bedroom!”

It slipped out of him, and his eyes widened before he had even finished speaking. Beet red, he slapped his hands over his mouth. For a moment they both just stood there, him biting his tongue and Zelda taken aback.

Then her shrewd side, the one looking for openings and hidden meanings everywhere – Sheik – hooked onto the defensive note in his voice and pulled through the embarrassment.

The way he said such an awful thing, angry, protesting… it wasn’t the first time.

 “You… is that what people think?” she asked, scowl digging into her forehead.

His hands fell from his face and he looked away.

 “People think a lot of things,” he muttered. “Even that I should be locked in the dungeon.”

Obviously his intent was to change the subject, and if he had chosen any other derailment Zelda would not have allowed him to get away with it. Quite clever then, that he went straight for the extreme.

 “What? Why?” she blurted.

 “Oh, you haven’t heard?” he said. He raised his hands, curling his fingers as if holding two items. “They say you take one part Ganon’s ashes, and one fresh Hero’s heart, and you slice it all together and whoop!” He threw his hands up in mocking cheer as his voice rose even higher. “Pig boy up, Hero down! So…”

He pivoted, motioning at the walls.

 “Lock me up and throw away the key, that’ll solve everything!” He stopped and faced her, shoulders falling as he scoffed, shaking his head. All the mad energy drained out of him, and suddenly he looked much, much older.

When he spoke again, it was in a low, bitter tone.

“Then there’s no risk that Ganon comes back, and I can’t claim the Queen’s debt.”

There were so many things wrong with everything he had just said, that Zelda had trouble deciding where to start.

 “You’re not like that,” she said in a firm tone, starting with the easiest.

 “Thank you.” His smile was weak, but there was relief there. Like he had been desperate for somebody to say it, when he should have known – how many cruel whispers had he heard?

 “And I can’t believe that such nonsense would be the majority’s opinion,” Zelda continued, folding her arms.

 “We’ve gone through a few…” He caught himself, and tried to veer off in a smoother direction. “War brings out a lot of quacks who like to play legendary Hero.”

He might have cut himself off, but it still hurt.

_We’ve gone through a few fallen Heroes._

_Starting with mine._

Link continued speaking while Zelda was still struggling to pull herself together.

 “And now they have peace, and their Hero, and it seems too good to be true.” He chuckled again, humorless. “I lost so many fans when I snuck off to find the Triforce of Courage.”

Part of her still could not help but agree that it had been foolish.

And then again, reclaiming a lost Triforce was an imperative pursuit in itself.

It didn’t matter, she told herself. It was done, and for a good cause – if there were consequences, those could be faced. There had to be something more to this, he could not be that concerned with worried rumors and jealous suspicion. Unless…

 “Are you scared that the Queen feels that way?” she asked, and watched him wince as if she had slashed him across the chest.

Silence.

Silence.

The wind rustled through the leaves in the trees, and in the distance there were laughing voices. Too far away to make out any words, though.

 “I…”

Link let out a deep sigh and stared at the ground.

 “I didn’t do it for her. I didn’t know her then. All of it… finding the pieces of the Triforce, making it through, fighting all those monsters, facing and killing Ganon… I did it because somebody had to. I didn’t think I’d make it… just blaze the way, thin them out, make it possible for somebody else…”

He looked up and met her gaze.

 “Now I’d do it for her.” His eyes were dark with despair. “But then she would feel even more indebted. They… people always said the Princess would pay any price to win the war.”

The core of his agony laid bared, pure as a swan’s wing – so tender and vulnerable that it made Zelda’s heart ache. This was chivalry, this was the Hero. Even if he was completely wrong.

“I believe she was prepared to _risk_ all she had to win the war,” Zelda said. “That’s not the same as paying any price for victory. If she was that desperate, she would have married any King that had a great enough army.”

Link flinched, opened his mouth, but Zelda did not stop.

 “Any King, or Prince, whose first order of business would be to take her off the battlefield, and find a spell to mask that scar on her face,” she said, and she found her voice far more bitter than she had intended. The Queen’s resigned, slumping form flared in her memory.

They didn’t deserve this, not these two, they had won _they had won_!

She wanted her meddling to be just that, a true wish for those who had healed her failure to have the happiness that had been denied her. But deep down, a wicked little voice whispered that if this Link married the Queen, he would be guarded for the rest of his life and there would never be a risk that Ganon’s troops could carry out any resurrection experiment.

Link clenched his fists and looked away, lips drawing back from his teeth in disgust.

 “That _would_ kill her,” he murmured, more to himself than her.

 “Indeed.”

Zelda took in a deep breath.

 “Let me tell you about my world,” she said, her own voice sounding strangely calm to her ears.

 “Alright?” he said, taken off guard by the change of subject.

 “When I was a child, Link…”

She had to pause for a second.

 “I mean, _my_ Link snuck into the castle gardens to see me. If the guards had caught him, he would just have been thrown out because he was a child too. If we had been older, he would have been executed on the spot.”

 “Well, he would have looked like an assassin breaking into the castle,” Link commented.

Zelda shook her head.

 “My point is, that was the only way we could have met. It’s not the same, not now.” She pointed at the castle walls, towards where she believed the Queen’s room was. “That’s not a fortress you’re locked out of.”

When he did not respond, only gazed up at the wall and started to shake his head, she threw all tact out.

 “She told me she really enjoyed spending time with you alone after you defeated Ganon.”

She had to bite her tongue to stop right there, to not lay it on even heavier with the Queen’s revelations of how she felt about Link. That would be too far, even with how grossly Zelda had already overstepped all boundaries.

For a moment, Link just stared at her.

 “Is… that true?” he finally managed in a papery whisper of his voice.

 “Why would she lie to me about that?”

He had no answer to that.

 “Go and talk to her, Link,” Zelda said, slow and clear.

He glanced up at the wall one more time. Then he bowed to her.

 “As my Lady commands.”

It was obviously supposed to be playful, but his nervous hope made his voice strained. Without another word he hurried off.

Well, it was done.

Right or wrong, now she could only wait and see.

For a little while longer she wandered the gardens, until the dropping temperature drove her indoors. On the way back to her room, the distant sound of music and laughter reached her ears. It sounded so heartfelt and cheerful that she was drawn through it, following it through the corridors into the workers’ dining hall.

The room was large and several long tables with benches were lined up inside of it. Though the furniture was simple, the walls were covered with banners and garlands of dried flowers and leaves. Many of the decorations looked as if they had been made with more excitement than skill – probably created in the joy of the moment when the war ended, then left there as happy mementos.

A fire blazed in the large fireplace by the back wall and candles were lit in the iron chandeliers, illuminating the scene with a warm glow. Several workers and off-duty guards and servants sat around a couple of the long tables, drinking and clapping. Two women sat cross-legged on one of the tables, one beating a wild rhythm on a drum and the other playing a flute.

If their red hair and the red color of their skin had not made it obvious enough, their elegant clothing and armor – though more stuffed than usual to keep them warm in this climate – was obviously of Gerudo tradition. Zelda recalled Impa mentioning the delegation from Nabooru.

A third Gerudo woman danced in the middle of the floor, a strip of nearly transparent cloth in each hand with which she painted graceful, sweeping arches as she leapt and twirled, kicking higher than seemed physically possible.

Zelda could instantly see that the traditional Gerudo dancing had changed through the years, but like so much else it had a painful familiarity to it. Part of her wished to leave for that reason, but another part soaked in the joyful atmosphere and held her there.

A fourth woman with the same red hair sat near the Hylians at the edge of one of the tables and simply watched. All of a sudden she glanced to the side and caught sight of Zelda. With a slanted, welcoming smile she waved at the hesitating woman by the door to come and join in.

For a moment Zelda stood where she was, uncertain if her strange presence would disturb the situation. Then again, they might not even recognize her, with her simple robe covering her dress. Also refusing an invitation – especially from a Gerudo – would be incredibly rude.

She swept her robe tighter around her to ensure she was inconspicuous and stepped inside. The woman who had waved to her reached for an empty cup and teapot as Zelda approached. Even several steps away, Zelda could smell the sweet, spicy aroma. Sitting down she accepted the cup with a low mumble of gratitude. Nobody seemed to notice her arrival, however, focused on the dancing.

 “Your Hyrule nights are cold,” the Gerudo woman said in a low voice. As if to underscore her statement she emptied her own steaming cup and refilled it immediately.

 “Agreed…” Zelda murmured, stealing a closer look at the woman beside her.

She did not look so much like Nabooru that it hurt. The profile might be as sharp and the hair just as intensively red and tied up in a similar manner, but from there it all evened out in subtle dissimilarities.

The woman glanced at Zelda again.

 “The desert nights were chilly, too,” Zelda said without thinking, speaking too quickly just to avoid being caught looking.

An elegant red eyebrow went up, and the Gerudo studied Zelda’s face for a second.

 “Ah, the sleeper,” she said. If she saw Zelda wince, she ignored it as she leaned forwards. “You were there, in our homeland, yes?”

Zelda sipped the tea. It burned her lips and tongue, but it helped her gather her thoughts.

 “Yes,” she said, steady as she could. “But I was disguised as a man— I mean, voe. I was not allowed into the fortress. Your people were very defensive.”

The Gerudo let out a short laugh, then threw a look at her performing companions and schooled her mirth into a grin so that she would not disturb the show.

 “Yes, yes, the Sheikah spy Princess. We know the stories too.”

Zelda’s shoulders dropped. Truly her entire life was an open book to everyone – all of her struggles, that ended with failure.

 “You’re not dancing?” she asked in a firm tone, hoping that the wish to change the subject would be picked up on and respected.

There was no response at first. Zelda sipped the tea again, looking towards the dancer without really seeing her.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Gerudo woman spoke again.

 “No, they have the situation under control.” She chuckled. “I could juggle with swords, but it tends to make Hylians nervous. Or perhaps a show of sparring, with a Sheikah?”

Zelda knew that was more of an offer than a joke, and she was relieved enough that the other subject had been abandoned that she could smile a little.

 “Another time,” she said, “though it might do me good. I’m out of practice.”

 “Of course, no wonder.” The Gerudo smirked, but jocularly. “I am Qiral. I know who you are.”

Bowing her head politely in response, Zelda managed to smile a bit.

The song ended and the musicians started arguing with the dancer on which number to follow up with. Qiral got up and joined them in the debate, and once it was settled she remained over there. Zelda did not mind.

Again the music started up, a gentler melody this time that called for a slower dance.

Zelda sat back and sipped the drink, enjoying the performance before her. By now, Link and the Queen must be speaking. Sitting there, though, in that warm, merry atmosphere, she could believe nothing except that things would turn out alright between them.

And the next morning the Queen formally announced the engagement.


	4. The Triforce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the old Dark Horse Zelda comics, Link was not from Hyrule but the neighbour kingdom of Calatia. The Captain here is also based on/totally Captain Krin from the comics.

“The roads are in such a bad shape that it’s impossible to transport the stone that far until winter. Then we can take it by sleighs, but right now it can’t be done.”

 “But if you pave the roads starting from Ruto, can you really provide enough stone by winter? We need all we can get to repair Rauru.”

 “You’ll have to use wood in the meantime anyway, no?”

 “Nobody wants to rebuild with wood, our homes have burned down enough times already. But you wouldn’t know that, would y—”

 “Gentlemen,” the Queen said.

She did not even raise her voice, but the representatives from Ruto and Rauru shut their mouths immediately.

Zelda hid a smile behind her hand, pretending to scratch her cheek. It was difficult not to show how amusing the looks on the two men’s faces were, glaring at each other but too respectful of the Queen to keep arguing – at least while she was present. In their eyes there was a silent, angry agreement to continue later.

Glancing around the table, Zelda noted that she wasn’t the only one hiding her mirth. Impa and the other two advisors (a blond, surprisingly young Captain of the army, and a middle-aged woman who served as the royal commerce advisor) invited to the meeting were subtle, of course, but Link could not keep his lips from twitching. Neither did he make an attempt to hide it. His focus, though, was on the Queen, with a soft gaze that spoke volumes of what he thought of her ability to command the room with a single word.

Clearing her throat, the commerce advisor raised her hand to speak. When the Queen nodded to her, the older woman pointed to the map that covered most of the table.

 “I understand what you mean,” she said, looking at the Rauru representative, “but if the roads are paved it will make travelling much simpler and you will be able to get more materials quicker, even if you have to wait for it now.”

 “But we need to fortify the mountain border,” the representative protested. Despite the disagreement he sounded much calmer now that he was not addressing his counterpart. He turned his head. “All due respect to you, Sir Link, for clearing up the rockslide that blocked the passage southwards, but it also re-opened the way for monsters.”

It was the first time Zelda heard about that feat. She was not the least bit surprised, however.

Link nodded agreement, giving a slanted, slightly pained smile as an apology for the double-edged help.

 “It hasn’t been too bad, true,” Impa commented after gaining permission to speak, “but that could be a ruse. If Ganon’s dregs organized to the south without him, they would have to go past Rauru to get to the Castle Town. Rauru is essential for the defense of the heartland.”

 “I agree with Lady Impa,” the Captain said. “We cannot let our guard down. Our troops are still recovering and spread thin.”

The Rauru representative leaned back in his chair, relieved to be supported by both Sheikah and military paranoia.

 “We still cannot transport the stone before winter,” the Ruto representative said. “That’s just the way it is with how the roads are now. So we may as well use this time to make the roads better.”

 “But right now it’s a waste of materials that can be better used as soon as they can reach Rauru,” the Captain insisted.

 “Your troops will have an easier time travelling when the roads are better,” the commerce advisor said. “And you’ll be able to get stone all year round. We can also start sending supplies and trade caravans across the land much more efficiently.”

 “In due time, yes,” the Captain said. “I too want to see better roads all the way from Ruto to Mido and Saria, but I don’t believe it should be our first priority.”

Zelda listened in silence, marveling once again at how different things were now. In her childhood she had – not too enthusiastically, because it was boring to a child – listened to petitioners coming to see her father. He had heard them and sent them away, then briefly consulted an advisor if he felt the need. Then he had simply decided, and that was it. A discussion like this would have been unthinkable.

She understood that the Queen had invited her to this meeting because her opinion was wanted, and she appreciated the trust. Listening to both sides she pondered what to add, as she found both the arguments for the defense and roads sound. 

 “What do you think?” the Queen asked, turning to Link.

He half-stood, reaching towards the map to draw an invisible line from Castle Town to Rauru.

 “I think that whatever you decide on, we should consider making a straight road here,” he said. “This long way around is a pain.” He traced the path going northeast from Castle Town and then down south to Rauru. “Also we would get plenty of logs to roll stone sleighs on.”

Any annoyance at his changing the subject evaporated around the table as he added the last part.

 “Do what now?” the Ruto representative said.

 “You don’t do that here?” Link looked baffled. “That’s how it’s done in Calatia. You lay out a bunch of big logs side by side and drag whatever heavy thing you want to move up on them. Then you roll it along the logs, and move the ones at the end to the front when you need to.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone else tried to picture how that would work.

 “That sounds unreliable,” the Rauru representative said.

Link shook his head.

 “As long as you know what you’re doing it works better than wheels for something that heavy,” he said. “I saw entire ships moved from inland to the sea that way.”

He paused and then pointed to the rocky path just southeast of Ruto, leading down from the mountainous region towards the northern road.

 “It can’t be done in this area though, because it’s too steep.” He looked up at the Ruto representative. “But that’s a winter problem as well, right? You carry the stone down the mountain in the autumn and store it until the snow comes?”

 “Ah… yes, indeed, Sir Link.” The man blinked, then a grin spread across his face. “But if we pave the main mountain road, carrying the stone will be easier. Then if we can get help from Calatia to… do that thing you described, we can begin bringing this year’s stone to Rauro right away.”

Link leaned back in his chair and raised his hands as if to say “Well?” at the room at large. Zelda found that motion unnecessarily smug, but there was an easy air about him that said that he did not mean any harm with the teasing.

 “That… won’t use up too much of the stone, yes,” the Captain said. He schooled his tone to not let his annoyance slip, but a hint of it flashed in his eyes when he glanced at Link. Zelda wasn’t sure if anybody else noticed it. Sheik bristled within her, but as she studied the man she really could not detect any real animosity.

 “And then you can continue paving the roads from there, while we get what we need as well,” the Rauro representative concluded. He smiled, with no trace of irritation. “Very well, Sir Link, that is a good plan. If you can get us people from Calatia to help.”

 “With some string pulling by my lovely fiancée, sure.” Link chuckled and inclined his head towards the Queen, who grinned.

Again their manners astounded, his more than the Queen. Zelda was only now seeing this side of him, of course. She suspected she would get used to it, and for now just try not to show how it bewildered her – doubly so with how nobody else seemed to mind.

Link pointed to the map again with a sigh.

 “It would be nice to get a road through the northwest woods too, but it’s such a mess in there.” He scratched at the large forest drawn between Castle Town and the mountains where Ruto was marked.

 “People wouldn’t want to go through there anyway,” the commerce advisor said. “It’s a haven of hiding places for monsters, only a madman would— and, ah, Sir Link, of course.”

Her quick correction drew bouts of laughter from all around the table. Even Zelda could not keep from smiling.

 “That is—” The Queen’s sentence ended abruptly. She stood up, so quickly that her chair fell over, hitting the floor with a hard crack.

 “Your Majesty?” several voices cried out in alarm.

Zelda was on her feet before she knew it, reaching for daggers that were no longer at her belt as she scanned the room. It was instinctual; searching for threats – whatever made the Queen gasp like that, and caused her eyes to go blank.

Link’s chair slammed into the floor but he froze mid-motion, his face a paralyzed mirror of the Queen’s.

A soft golden glow enveloped both of them. It fluttered, then surged inwards, intensifying as it gathered up and ran like streams of concentrated sunlight down both of their left arms. It poured into the backs of their hands, taking shape.

“No…!”

Zelda barely recognized her own voice.

Both Link and the Queen stood like statues, staring at their respective hand. Anybody close enough could see it clearly, and everyone else could make a correct guess. A terrified hush fell over the room.

The symbol of Wisdom glowed on the Queen’s hand, and Courage on Link’s.

Then what about Power?

The Queen recovered first, staggering sideways and grabbing the table for support.

 “Link… your room—!” she rasped.

He recoiled, almost stumbled on his fallen chair but found his footing.

 “Yes… goddesses!” he grit out and took off before anyone could think twice.

The door slammed behind him, and the sound rang straight through everyone in the room, ripping them from their shock.

 “His room— is somebody there?!” Zelda hissed.

The Queen got to the door first and ripped it open. Zelda would have followed, but in her haste tripped on her chair and hit the table. Dazed, she heard somebody – probably one of the representatives – shouting about the Triforce returning to their bearers. Impa’s sharp command to hold his tongue was too late.

Squinting, Zelda saw a pair of servants down the corridor. The Queen ran past them, and they stood shocked for only a second before they too took off. Zelda could hear them shouting the terrible news from the distance, spreading their panic like a wildfire.

The corridors were a blur, she was vaguely aware of the Captain running alongside her. At some point he shouted at a couple of guards to come along and both obeyed.

She heard the wailing before they even reached the courtyard, and an icy hand gripped her heart. Bursting through the door and into the sunlight, she saw people streaming into the open area, gathering around the entrance leading to the tower. In the confused, fearful murmurs and shouts she could only make out that nobody knew what had happened, except that something was wrong with the Triforce.

It calmed her a little – at least they did not know any more than she did.

Then she realized that the shouting was becoming more of a frantic chant, as the fear of the people formed into a single desperate wish.

 “Don’t let him go! Don’t let him go! Stop him!”

 “Move aside!” the Captain shouted.

He and the guards managed to make way to the door, and Zelda followed close behind them. On the other side of the door was just a spiral stone staircase leading upwards.

Something came clattering down and both she and the guards recoiled, uncertain. A circle of gold bounced down the stair, then rolled in a jaunty half-moon on the floor before falling over. The Queen’s crown, dented and with several gemstones knocked out from its rough trip down the tower.

Had all of them not heard the Queen furiously shouting upstairs, the sight would have been terrifying.

Zelda could not even recall how she made it up there. Rounding the final twist of the stair she saw the Queen beating her hands against the great wooden door of Link’s room.

 “Open up! Link!” the Queen yelled.

 “Is… is he in there?” Zelda gasped, lungs and legs burning from the dash upstairs.

 “Yes, I’m fine!” came Link’s voice from inside. “Hang on, I’ll— but the Triforce is gone, I have to…”

He fell silent when the crowd’s wail rose up again, calling for “him” to be stopped.

The Captain opened the pouch at his belt and reached in. A ring of light formed around his hand and as he drew it out of the magical container, a pair of shackles on a short chain followed. The icy clatter of metal sounded unnaturally loud.

Both the Queen and Zelda froze.

 “Captain!” the Queen snapped.

The blond man gave her a pleading, desperate look.

 “Please, Your Majesty!” he said.

There was only fear. No malice. He glanced downstairs, past the pale guards and towards the fearful shouting of the mob.

Zelda swallowed hard. For a moment, the world fell away and she saw only fire. Fire, and a huge, monstrous shadow. The ground trembled with that roaring, merciless laugh.

Then it was gone, and unyielding logic had won her heart. The Triforce of Power could have been stolen by anybody clever enough, but there were greater risks involved with an obvious piece of bait to draw out a hot-headed Hero. Risks that she was not willing to take, and from the sound of it, she had the entire Castle Town on her side.

 “If he gets captured… if it’s true, we have to stop him. Just stop him until he calms down!” she said, her throat dry.

 “I…”

The Queen hesitated.

From the other side of the door, there was a muffled sound of running steps. The trio close enough to hear them stared at the blockade, all of them realizing that Link had been listening on the other side.

 “No!”

The Queen slammed her palms against the door.

 “Link! Link, I would never! Please!”

There was no response.

 “Move aside!”

Zelda pushed the Queen out of the way, without even thinking about it casting a little bit of her disguise spell. Just enough to make one of Sheik’s lock picks appear in her hand.

Leaning her ear to the door she shoved the pick into the keyhole. It was a surprisingly easy lock – a few kinks and she both heard and felt it give away. Normally that was a satisfying sound, but she felt sick as she pushed the door open. The Captain raised the shackles, every muscle in his body ready to spring as the guards moved up beside him – all three of them pale as death, and deaf to the Queen’s angry voice.

The room was empty.


	5. Sheik

There should have been an argument, a struggle – anything. They had all braced for it, and now there was only a void. For a second all five of them stood paralyzed.

The Captain and the guards rushed in, throwing open the doors to the side rooms.

The shackles fell to the floor with a hard clang.

 “He’s gone!” The Captain’s voice was a hoarse, terrified snarl as he dug his hands into his hair, all his training failing him – the training that had drilled him for a life of war, a short life, one that had finally, finally been promised peace… and now there was only terror of that hope crumbling, doubled by knowing he had enraged his Queen.

The same horror reflected in the guards’ eyes. One of them even stumbled heavily against the wall, looking like he might throw up.

Zelda stepped into the room and looked around in a daze. An empty bed, a sturdy chest, a desk with some knick-knacks, a tapestry on the wall showing the map of Hyrule, an open wardrobe with a few changes of clothes. Everything of fine quality, but looking fairly simple. Of course Link was not the kind to like fancy things either, even though he must have been offered.

Through the open door beside the wardrobe, she saw the three marble pillars.

Her pulse beat in her ears, so loud she thought she would fall over. She had to grasp the edge of the table.

 “You could have some faith in that idiot,” the Queen said.

They all stared or blinked dazedly at her as she marched straight through the room, to the open window. The curtains fluttered in the wind, rising up to wave on either side of her as she bent down and snatched something off the floor. Then she leaned outside and looked around.

Sighing, she turned back.

 “He must have flown off,” she said. “We need to send out search parties.”

Zelda gaped at the Queen, thinking she must have misheard. But the three men jumped to attention.

 “He can’t keep that up for long,” the Captain said, scowling. All fear fled, replaced with steel-hard determination. “We can captu—” He changed the end abruptly when he saw the Queen’s glare. “… find him!”

“No chains,” she said.

 “I— Your Majesty…” The Captain motioned towards the window, his mouth a thin, white line. Down below, the anxious, angry wail of the crowd rose and fell without cease. The sound made Zelda’s stomach churn.

 “Go down there, and tell the crowd that he ran off to search the nearby area, and we need to find him,” the Queen sternly said. “Send out groups to search, as smoothly as you can. I will be there in a moment, but first I must see if there are any clues here.” She motioned towards the Triforce room.

The Captain and soldiers saluted her, and hurried off.

Left alone with the Queen, Zelda struggled to think of something to say as the other woman leaned against the wall and rubbed her temples. The Queen only needed a second, though, before she stood straight with a steely look of determination. Without a word she marched into the room where the Triforce had been kept.

It was a simple room, without furniture. Only three carved stone pillars stood there, no taller than Zelda’s chest. Sunlight shone in through the tall windows and banners with Hyrule’s crest hung on the walls, all of it just seeming to underscore how empty the room felt.

The Queen walked over to the pillars and brushed her hand over the smooth top of each one, soft magical sparks flashing at her fingertips. Stepping back, she shook her head and glared at the empty spots, then hurried around the room checking each window. Zelda caught on and met her halfway around the room, having looked at each frame along the way.

 “Nobody broke in,” the Queen concluded, and Zelda nodded her head in agreement.

So, whatever made Courage and Wisdom return to their bearers must have simply summoned Power somewhere. Yet…

 “But Link is alive,” Zelda said, and the words felt like a soothing balm.

 “Yes, so it can’t be Ganon,” the Queen said, her shoulders slumping in relief.

But the reprieve was short. A scowl dug into the Queen’s forehead.

 “Or it shouldn’t be,” she said through her teeth. “We don’t even know if that rumor about sacrificing Link was true.”

 “But reviving… it can’t be easy!” Zelda protested, knowing full well she just wanted to convince herself.

 “No…” The Queen faltered, lost in thought.

In a distance, she heard the wail of the crowd soften, then rise again with renewed force. Both of the women stood silent, listening as the sound began to ease up. The Queen walked back into Link’s room and gazed out the open window. Zelda followed her, watching as the mass of people below surged from the courtyard, spilling out the gates to the city. There had been raw terror, and they were still scared, but now they had a purpose.

Zelda tried to gather her thoughts. If not Ganon, then maybe some servant of his somehow had done it? But summoning the Triforce would not be easy, of that she was certain. Ganon might have created a spell for it, in case he was struck down? But would he do that, prepare something that could allow anybody else to hold Power?

She did not know, and she had no answers. The fact remained that Power was gone, and Link had run off like a fool…

A pang of guilt struck her as she saw her own part in making him flee. But he should not have done that, he should have trusted—

A memory struck. How had he gotten out, again?

 “What do you mean, he flew off?” she asked.

A confused look passed over the Queen’s face. Then realization struck.

 “Ah, yes, nobody told you? How skilled he is with magic?” she asked.

 “No.”

 “He can do a lot of things. Like turn into a fairy.”

Zelda was too upset already to be surprised by anything like that. She simply nodded, accepting the new strange fact without question.

Sighing, the Queen raised her hand and studied the item she had picked up. Now that she had a closer look, Zelda saw that it was a compass.

 “He must have been trying to recalibrate it,” the Queen said through her teeth.

 “Reca— excuse me?” Zelda said, distracted. She stared out the window, straining to catch any glimpse of a tiny, glowing shape.

 “Look.”

The Queen’s hand on Zelda’s shoulder dragged her back from her stupor, and she turned around. Confused, she gazed at the compass. The arrow was turned towards the Queen.

 “That’s not north…” Zelda muttered.

 “It points towards the Triforce of Wisdom,” the Queen said. “It can probably be changed to the other ones, but I don’t know how.”

 “But if he doesn’t have it, then he doesn’t know where to go either!”

 “True.”

 “What was he thinking?” Zelda snarled.

 “Nothing!” The Queen stepped away, pacing back and forth through the room, staring at the compass.

The sound of running footsteps coming up the stairway made both her and Zelda snap their heads in that direction. The Gerudo delegation rushed inside. The butts of their spears played a swift staccato against the floor as the women formed a straight line, chins up and eyes hard.

 “We heard you needed a Hero restrained and thought we’d help,” Qiral said, knocking her fist to her chest in a salute.

 “You’re late,” the Queen responded. She gave them a sardonic smile, which twisted into a grimace. “And I’d appreciate if everybody would stop trying to arrest him.”

 “Or we can all agree that he would look good in chains. What?” Qiral added the last with a grin at the look of the Queen’s face, as the other redheaded ladies made more or less respectful attempts to hide their laughter. In an instant the discipline was shattered.

 “Be serious!” Zelda snapped.

She was in no mood for any brutal Gerudo humor.

 “He’s running right into a trap, whether or not he can actually be used to bring Ganon back,” she said. “We need to join the search parties!”

One of the other Gerudo women cleared her throat, and they all straightened up, mirth melting away. In a heartbeat they were soldiers at attention again, waiting for an order. Zelda, too, looked at the Queen.

After a moment, the woman at the center of their attention shook her head.

 “We’re not going to find him,” she said, glancing out the window. “He made it through everything Ganon and his army could throw at him. Twice.” She looked down at the compass, and motioned towards the Triforce room. “If we knew how, we could make this track him, but…”

Zelda rubbed her temples. It was too true. He would not be the Hero if he could not make it past any obstacle – either through or around it.

There was another way, however.

 “Then, where would he go?” she asked. “If he doesn’t have a compass to follow, where would he assume he could find the Triforce of Power?”

The response was instant.

 “The Dread Lands,” the Queen said. “South of Death Mountain. That’s where Ganon’s stronghold was.”

Waving the compass around as she spoke, she moved over to the tapestry map on the wall.

 “He already has a head start and he’ll know we figured where he’s going, so sending messages by bird to the towns won’t help… he won’t even go near them.”

She traced a straight line from the palace on the map towards the southeast, across the grasslands to the mountains, speaking quicker and quicker.

 “He wouldn’t go southwest, he’d have to go through the swamps, he hates the swamps, so if we ride we can still— I can still—”

Stopping, she stared at the picture of the palace. Then she spun around towards Zelda, eyes wide and eyebrows knotted with the sudden frustrating realization.

 “Curses! I can’t… I’m a Queen now!”

 “So we’ve heard…” Qiral murmured.

Zelda barely heard the Gerudo’s comment. Meeting the Queen’s stare, hearing her frustrated snarl, everything suddenly seemed crystal-clear. There was something she could do, something tangible – something real.

 “I’ll get him back,” Zelda said.

The Queen glanced between her, the compass, the map and back.

 “I don’t suppose you could rule in my stead?”

For a moment Zelda wasn’t sure if the other woman was serious or not. The Queen didn’t seem to know for sure herself, judging by her knotted brow and weak attempt at a grin.

 “I… don’t believe that would be found acceptable,” Zelda said.

 “No, I guess…” the Queen said, her shoulders falling. She looked at the map again. “But you don’t know your way around here, or Death Mountain.”

Zelda almost protested, only to remember this was not the same Death Mountain she had known. Even now, her brain played tricks on her.

 “Aren’t there any maps?” she asked.

 “It was too infested to explore,” the Queen said, shaking her head. “And I only went through it twice, when I was captured and when I was saved.”

 “Wouldn’t your Hero boy have mapped it out?” Qiral spoke up. Without waiting for an answer she marched over to Link’s desk and pulled open the upper drawers, pulling out a couple of scrolls.

For a moment the Queen looked like she would protest against shuffling through Link’s belongings, but then she grunted and walked closer to watch Qiral roll out the parchments. Zelda too moved there to look. However, at least those first scrolls disappointed. They were maps, but one showed an island and one a forest.

 “We’ll look here, the rest of you go down there and make yourselves useful,” Qiral said over her shoulder, even while she carelessly tossed the scrolls aside and opened another drawer.

The other Gerudo saluted her and hurried out.

Zelda went to the wardrobe and ruffled through it. She glanced around at a creaking sound, seeing the Queen begin examining the chest’s contents. Turning back, Zelda continued her own search, only finding more clothes.

 “Hah!”

She snapped around at Qiral’s call. The Gerudo held up an unrolled scroll, depicting a stylized mountain side with a dizzying number of dark spots representing openings. Twisting and diverging lines were drawn from each spot, some connecting them and some ending in angry red X symbols.

 “Ooh, look how frustrated our boy got here,” Qiral said with a grin, placing the parchment on the table and pointing to a furious bundle of red lines near the middle of the map.

Zelda had no time for jokes, moving to stand beside the Gerudo.

 “Is this correct, you think?” she asked the Queen, who huddled up on the other side of Qiral to look.

For a few moments, the Queen just traced the lines with her fingertips, seemingly at random as a scowl dug into her forehead.

 “Possibly,” she finally said. “And it’s a mess. But it’s the only thing we have.”

Even though the answer was far from satisfying, Zelda had to agree with the last statement.

 “It’s better than nothing,” she firmly said. “I’ll take it with me.”

 “Alright, but give me a minute to make a copy,” the Queen said. “We might need it.”

She grasped the edge of the parchment to pull it over, reaching for a blank paper in one of the open drawers. Zelda was so focused on the Queen that she almost jumped when Qiral’s big, warm hand landed on her shoulder.

 “I’ll come with you, little Sheikah Princess. I’ve travelled here before.” Qiral laughed, an airy chuckle. “And it would be fun to catch a Hero.”

Zelda hesitated for a heartbeat, so used to travelling and moving alone – but she could not deny that it would be useful to have a companion in a completely new land.

 “Very well,” she said, and managed to smile a little. “Thank you.”

 “If you _can_ catch him,” the Queen commented with a slanted smile.

Qiral smirked and made a confident toss of her head. Then she looked between the scribbled map and the tapestry depicting Hyrule.

 “It seems it would be quicker to go on the eastern side of the mountains instead of past Saria,” she said. “There are far fewer caves to go through there.”

 “True, but if so you need to be careful by the great cemetery.” The Queen stepped up to the tapestry and brushed her hand over the glum, purplish area covering much of the southeastern part of the depicted land. “Only approach it by dawn and make sure you’re past it before sundown. And spare the horses, leave them at Mido. You can’t take them with you through the caves.”

 “Just as well,” Qiral said. “Too many things down south with keen noses and huge appetites.”

She hurried off to get all her travel gear. Zelda moved her weight from foot to foot, impatient and yet unsure. She needed to do something, but she had nothing to pack.

 “A moment, please,” the Queen said in a distracted tone.

She found a pencil and began to quickly copy the map on a clean piece of paper. Finishing, she turned around with the original in hand.

 “Here, this—”

Blinking, she recoiled at the sight of a masked Sheikah standing behind her instead of the young woman who had been there last time she looked. Zelda pulled down the scarf a little bit and managed to smile despite how tense she felt.

The Queen let out a deep sigh and handed over the map.

 “I really want to go,” she said. Her eyes narrowed. “And drag him back here by his hair!”

 “I have plenty of ways to knock him out,” Zelda said.

The Queen snorted, but the hard glint in her eyes said that she understood that it was not a joke.

 “Good. Now…” Waving her hand in a beckoning motion, the Queen hurried towards the stairs.

Zelda followed the other woman back to the royal quarters. Soldiers and people hurried about, getting ready or on their way to join the search. Many threw confused looks at the Sheikah, but nobody had time or were foolish enough to get in the way with questions – Zelda could not see the Queen’s face, but could imagine the look on it. People dove out of the way for the two of them. The only pause the two women made was when the Queen grabbed the arm of a servant and ordered him to get travel supplies in two bags ready and brought to the stables.

Reaching her chambers, the Queen ran through the first room into a side door. Following, Zelda found it to be a walk-in closet, but not a very lady-like one. All of the clothes hanging along the wall were sturdy shirts and pants – only in the very far back she thought she saw a couple of dresses, all of them too small for the Queen to wear.

None of that was the Queen’s focus, however, as she threw open a chest and pulled out a simple bag in a soft yellowish hue. She stuck her hand into it and a glow rose up around the brim. Her entire arm disappeared down into the bag, far deeper than it should have been able to go, and the cloth did not move in the slightest. Zelda recognized the convenient magic, the same the Captain had used to hold those shackles.

 “Never got around emptying this…” The Queen pulled her hand out, holding a pair of bottles between the bases of her fingers. A red liquid sloshed around in both of them. “Yes, good, but a couple more, to be safe…”

She caught Zelda’s gaze and shook the bottles.

 “Medicine,” the Queen said. “Just don’t rely too much on it.”

Zelda nodded, recognizing the healing drink. Too much might feel good and save you in a pinch, but it would come back and haunt you the next day if not earlier like an excruciating hangover.

 “And…”

The Queen dropped the bottles into the magical depths of the bag and bent over the chest. From the many items within it, she lifted out a bow. The string had a silvery hue, and gold inlays with Hyrule’s crest adorned the curved limbs. Looking closer, Zelda noticed that the grip had faded symbols on it, but she could not make them out.

 “Link took his own, and his silver arrows,” she said. “You take this. I have my own!”

She added the last when Zelda started to protest. It quieted the objection immediately – there was no arguing against that tone.

 “Here, try.” The Queen held the bow out, and Zelda took it. “There’s no need for arrows. A past Impa crafted a pair.”

Now that she held it, Zelda could clearly see that the grip bore the Sheikah eye. It may have been worn down by many hands holding the weapon, but she suspected that it had always been faint by design.

Had she been more relaxed, she may have been impressed by how the Queen could tell that she too had trained with a bow. Of course, the Queen was a warrior and would instantly pick it up from her counterpart’s build.

Tentatively, Zelda pulled the string back. A warm hum surged through her arm and a flickering arrow of pure light formed between her fingers on the string, resting on her thumb at the grip. It felt feathery, but she full well knew that it would be unwise to fire it. She gingerly relaxed the drawn string and the arrow faded. The hum remained in her arm for a moment, leaving the muscles a little numb.

 “I shouldn’t use this too much, should I?” she said, and the Queen shook her head.

Silently offered the open chest’s content, Zelda picked out a few more items that might be useful – some rope and bandages among other things. The magical bag swallowed everything she took, though the magic glow flickered a warning about being at its limit when she dropped the last couple of items into it.

She went back into the other room, seeing the Queen straighten up from sealing a letter. Meeting Zelda halfway across the floor, the Queen offered the folded paper.

 “Show this to any soldier, and they will know to help you with anything you need,” the Queen said.

Zelda took the letter with a word of gratitude. There was nothing more to prepare, and together they rushed off through the castle and out the front gate.

The courtyard was a mess of people rushing about, but there was a more organized air to the panic now, compared to just before Link’s foolish escape. Very few appeared to run around like headless chickens, and were instead forming groups heading out the gate.

Zelda followed the Queen to the stables, finding Qiral already waiting with two horses. A stable boy was just finishing fastening a bedroll on the second horse’s saddle. He bowed away as soon as he finished.

 “Barely recognize you, sleepyhead,” Qiral cheerfully said as she swung herself up in the saddle. Zelda noticed that the Gerudo had exchanged the spear with a curved sword, resting in a sheath by the tall woman’s belt.

 “Call me Sheik.” It felt a bit strange to say those words here, but also relieving to have a polite way of telling Qiral to stop it with the nicknames.

The Gerudo only shrugged in response.

 “I’ll get him back,” Zelda reaffirmed the Queen, grasping the reins of her horse.

Nothing could have prepared her for the hug.

 “Please,” the Queen said, squeezing Zelda who just stood stunned in the embrace.

Unable to say anything even after she was released, Zelda simply nodded and got into the saddle.

 “If we managed to find him here, I’ll send a pigeon to Mido,” the Queen said.

Zelda mutely nodded. They both knew that there would probably not be any such message.

Surrounded by scared but determined people, she rode beside Qiral through the gate past the safe walls – into the strange, new world she had only glimpsed until now.


End file.
